


this town is all just dirt and earth (a little lie, a bigger hurt)

by Muir_Wolf



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, also some pretty stellar blaming himself for everything that's ever gone wrong in the entire world, bisexual Sammy Stevens, mention of an abusive relationship, post-ep 66, rated for language, two thumbs up for this mess of a kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 22:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13421085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muir_Wolf/pseuds/Muir_Wolf
Summary: Spoilers for episode 66!  Sammy trying (and failing, miserably) to deal with things.Ben should've let him fight for Emily, too.  But maybe it's written all over his face, how bad he is at fighting for the people he loves.  He still hasn't found Jack, has he?  Maybe Ben knew Sammy couldn't help, maybe Ben knew it's Sammy fault, because deep down, deep deep down where he buries it most days, Sammy knows it's got to be his fault, that the people he cares about keep going missing.Who is Sammy Stevens?Ben had written, and Sammy had known the answer right off.  Not enough, that's what he is.  Never fucking enough.





	this town is all just dirt and earth (a little lie, a bigger hurt)

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write a fic, and instead this rambling 2k of pseudo-character study poured out of me. So. I wasn't just going to delete it, but be aware it's pretty much just extremely self-indulgent Sammy train of thought. I'll write an _actual_ fic at some point!

_“Is,”_ Sammy says. Because Jack Wright is still alive. He hasn't spent over two years in King Falls to not know this—he hasn't snuck around and asked Troy unobtrusive questions and hung out at Rosie's Diner (everyone goes through Rosie's sooner or later); he hasn't scribbled out handwritten files and put up a fucking crazy-ass _conspiracy board_ in his _closet_ and gone without sleep too many days and paced his shitty apartment too many days and wrung himself out _too many days_ for Jack Wright _not to still be alive._

Of course he doesn't want Lily to give up. The ensuing panic attack on January 1st— _god they've got bad blood but he's never not thought she wasn't a-fucking-amazing journalist_ —when it seemed like she was giving up (giving up _again_ , because he'd asked her for help, hadn't he? Jack disappeared and the only thing Sammy could dig up was King Falls, and she wouldn't believe him), of course he had to go outside, in the cold late night air, and walk around the building until no one could see him, bent over with his hands on his knees and try—god, just try to fucking breathe through it.

(Jack Wright has a smile that can light up a whole goddamn room, and a laugh that even the memory of can make Sammy smile three years later. Lily's wrong, because he loves Ben in ways he still hasn't quite come to terms with, but no one could ever take Jack's place in Sammy's heart. Friendships can't replace friendships; love can't replace love. Sammy _loves_ Jack. Loves him more than Lily does, because he gave up _everything_ , didn't he? Gave up everything and came to King Falls on a hope and a prayer that haven't given him a damn thing in return.)

He breathed through it. He went back inside the radio station, because he's not Ben, and he doesn't just disappear on his friends even though the world wants to swallow him up whole. Can't disappear, because he doesn't have ties to this town like Ben does: if he walked away from Ben (he'll never walk away from Ben), maybe he wouldn't ever stop walking away. It's been three years since Jack walked away, and maybe Sammy's tired of the fact that no one he loves thinks he's worth staying for. Maybe it's easier to think about, even in the abstract, because Jack and Ben both walked away first. Maybe—

Maybe it doesn't matter, because he's still here, isn't he? Sammy's still here. He hasn't left.

He hasn't given up.

Lily is right about one thing: he was tempted. God, he was tempted. And he's a coward in a lot of ways, he knows this, but it's not even fear that tempted him (although fuck he's afraid—afraid of what's happened to Jack, afraid every time that Debbie calls that Jack's somehow caught up in that mess, afraid that if he gets Jack back, he's going to end up losing Ben (and by extension Emily) in the process, because how will Ben ever forgive him? God, he's so fucking afraid). But it's not the fear that tempted him, that night, panic threatening to batter him down, the cold night air harsh in his throat as he struggled to suck in enough air. What tempted him—what truly tempted him—was the subtle notes of relief underneath all that fear. Relief that maybe it could finally— _finally_ —be over.

Because he's all alone on this one, he's been all alone on this one for years, and he is just—god. He's so tired. He's so fucking tired. The only good night of sleep he's had in two years is when he heard Emily's voice over the radio line the night that Ben fought for her and won her back. His heart had felt too tight for his chest, Debbie's words ringing in his ears, Jack's loss settling cold in his gut like it does sometimes, and then Emily had spoken. And no it wasn't perfect, and yes she couldn't remember Ben, and Ben's voice had been a terrifying mixture of hope and utter devastation when he'd called Sammy off-air from the hospital, but Emily was _back._

(Ben should've let him fight for Emily, too. But maybe it's written all over his face, how bad he is at fighting for the people he loves. He still hasn't found Jack, has he? Maybe Ben knew Sammy couldn't help, maybe Ben knew it's Sammy fault, because deep down, deep deep down where he buries it most days, Sammy knows it's got to be his fault, that the people he cares about keep going missing. _Who is Sammy Stevens?_ Ben had written, and Sammy had known the answer right off. Not enough, that's what he is. Never fucking enough.)

But they got Emily back. Ben got her back. And underneath the sheer fucking relief that Emily—the lovely Miss Emily Potter—was back, and home, and alive ( _ALIVE_ ), there had been, for the first time in months, hope. Because if Emily could come back from the fucking stars themselves after a year, then maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe Sammy could still find Jack. Maybe the impossible could be possible if you wanted it desperately enough. And Sammy wants it desperately, he really does.

He'd fallen asleep , and slept for hours, and he'd woken up hopeful, even. And then days had turned into weeks into months, and Jack was still missing, and Emily was getting gaslit to hell and back and he couldn't stop it, couldn't help her, couldn't _save_ her.

Can't seem to save anyone, these days.

(Sammy's only ever saved himself, once, and even that had been with Jack's help. Lily thinks they ran away from her, but that's never been the truth of it. Sammy had been drowning, and Jack had been the only one to see, the only one to reach out a life preserver. It's not Lily's fault, he can't remember if she even knew he had a boyfriend. He never talked about his personal life much, even then. Even Jack had a hell of a time putting it together, he'd said. The bruise on his arm had been the final piece of the puzzle, Jack had told him, but it took a long time before he was willing to reach out and accept any help. So he knows a bit about gaslighting, yeah. So he'd known that as much as he wanted to reach out and save Emily, you can't force anyone to be saved. 

He'd—he hadn't wanted Jack to bear the brunt of that with Lily, but he also couldn't—god. Lily had been his mentor, even though she was barely older than he was. But she was fire and courage and all the things he hadn't been, and he—Jack said she'd understand, but for Sammy it was easier for her to hate him than for her to pity him. He'd had a crush on her, first, which Jack had always teased him about, and while things turned in different directions, and she'd ended up more like a bossy older sister, he still hadn't wanted to lose her respect like that, for a mistake he knew she'd never make.

Jack had been okay with it, and Sammy knew eventually he'd have to straighten it out, that he'd have to bring Jack and Lily back together again. He doesn't have any siblings, and he'd been envious of them, and then so goddamn possessive of them when he'd started to inch himself into their hearts, and he couldn't let it be his fault that they fell apart. And then Jack had to go and drop off the face of the earth.

He'd wondered about that with Jack after he'd gone. Jack had been—distant, in the weeks leading to his disappearance. Sammy had wondered, looking back, combing over the possible minuscule crumbs of information, whether Sammy could have said something, done something, to keep him there. He honestly doesn't know. You can't force anyone to be saved.)

The truth of it is that Sammy Stevens has always been fucking stellar at losing the people he loves, whether it's them walking away, him running away, or the universe itself taking them away. Jack and Lily had been the first family he had that he thought he might get to keep, and then he lost them, too, and Ben and Emily—he's lost her once, and if Ben blowing up his phone with calls tonight is any indication, he's probably about to lose him, too, because that's what happens. That's what happens again, and again, and again, and he told Lily he wasn't giving up, but maybe it's just that he too tired to give up. Maybe he's just too tired to face what that means. He won't give up on Jack—couldn't, even if Jack hadn't refused to give up on him, first—but if he did? If, in theory, he gave up this pursuit that has half-consumed his last few years? Well. Does he actually have anything else that's keeping him here? Ben and Emily, he—well, loving a thing doesn't mean you should get to keep it, and at the end of the day wouldn't they be better off without him? 

What, really, has he done for this town? Exposed Grisham, maybe, except Grisham is still mayor, Troy's out of a job, and Ben's so itchy to change things that sooner or later he's going to do something that Sammy, at least, will regret.

And those fucking rainbow lights—they showed up the same night as Sammy himself, didn't they? Is Sammy supposed to pretend that's a coincidence, that it's not his fault that first Tim and then Emily disappeared on his watch? On his watch, and on his radio line, and under lights that followed so closely on the heels of his arrival?

Somebody asked Jack to come here. Asked, or cajoled, or tricked, or paid, or _something_. Somebody in this goddamn town knows why Jack Wright came here, and Sammy's supposed to find out who they are and what the hell they know.

Someone, somewhere, knows something. Maybe Lily will find it. Maybe it would be easier if he could leave it in Lily's capable hands, but Sammy owes Jack too much, and loves him too well. He can't walk away from this. He won't.

And maybe someday it'll be _done._ Maybe he'll have his answers, maybe he'll find Jack, maybe he'll lose everything else in his life, give up everything else in his life, but maybe for once it'll be worth it.

Lily said her piece, and he knows her well enough that he's sure she won't call back, not tonight, but he turned off the phones anyway. He unplugged the hotline, and sent Chet home, and put on their Greatest Hits after all, and turned his cell off when even Emily started getting in on calling him, and it's because Lily is right, isn't she? He is a coward.

But his shift is up is thirty minutes, and tonight he'll have to be back at the station, and assuming Ben is back he'll have to do the show with him, and he knows Ben won't let him run. Not now. Not this time. He'll have to figure out what he's going to do about that. He has to figure out a lot of things.

Right now, he wants his shift to be over, and he wants to go lie down on his bed and probably stare at the ceiling again, because sleep keeps eluding him, but at least he'll be at what passes for home, and what passes for safe, and what passes for even a momentary pause.

He closes his eyes and tries to think of a way this will all work out, but one doesn't come. No easy way out, no clear path ahead.

No matter, he thinks. He still has to try.


End file.
